Dog shooting a mystery - SAD
Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2004 2:35 pm
Dog shooting a mystery
JEREMIAH STETTLER
THE SAGINAW NEWS
Michele Wietfeldt can't escape the image of her son's black Labrador, Maddy, choking and bleeding with a gunshot wound to the chest.
The Fremont Township resident remembers her son screaming, then sobbing as he wrapped his T-shirt around the dog to stop the bleeding.
An unknown shooter killed the family's year-old pet Friday while her son, Collin, 13, greased his bicycle chain in front of the family's home.
The teen, who received the dog as a birthday gift last year, heard the shot and watched Maddy collapse in a field across the road.
"He was horrified and screamed 'Someone shot my dog! Someone shot my dog!' " recounted Wietfeldt, 42. "I yelled at him not to go, but he tore out of there on his bike."
Maddy was alive when Collin arrived, but she was bleeding heavily from her mouth and chest and struggling to breathe. The family tried to save her, driving her to the Village Veterinarian Clinic in Hemlock for treatment, but Maddy died an hour later.
A. Michael Manzoni, a veterinarian at the clinic, sees three or four cases of dog shootings every year. This was the worst, he said.
He said the placement of the bullet -- through the chest and into the spine -- leads him to believe the dog was killed deliberately and not as the object of whimsical hunting-related target practice.
"This guy knew what he was doing," Manzoni said. "He wasn't take just taking pot shots."
Manzoni couldn't say what weapon was used, but said it was a rifle rather than shotgun. He believes the shooter hit the animal twice.
Saginaw County sheriff's deputies responded to the incident, but were unable to locate the shooter.
Wietfeldt's family buried the dog in the back yard near a sandbox where Maddy would lie during hot summer days. A pile of beach stones, collected from Au Gres for a rock garden, stands as a monument.
Collin placed the wing of his first duck, shot last fall, in the grave. He had trained Maddy to begin duck hunting this year.
But that hasn't erased the hurt. Nor has it eased Wietfeldt's mind.
"It's scary to think that somebody could be sitting out there with a rifle shooting at innocent animals," she said.
JEREMIAH STETTLER
THE SAGINAW NEWS
Michele Wietfeldt can't escape the image of her son's black Labrador, Maddy, choking and bleeding with a gunshot wound to the chest.
The Fremont Township resident remembers her son screaming, then sobbing as he wrapped his T-shirt around the dog to stop the bleeding.
An unknown shooter killed the family's year-old pet Friday while her son, Collin, 13, greased his bicycle chain in front of the family's home.
The teen, who received the dog as a birthday gift last year, heard the shot and watched Maddy collapse in a field across the road.
"He was horrified and screamed 'Someone shot my dog! Someone shot my dog!' " recounted Wietfeldt, 42. "I yelled at him not to go, but he tore out of there on his bike."
Maddy was alive when Collin arrived, but she was bleeding heavily from her mouth and chest and struggling to breathe. The family tried to save her, driving her to the Village Veterinarian Clinic in Hemlock for treatment, but Maddy died an hour later.
A. Michael Manzoni, a veterinarian at the clinic, sees three or four cases of dog shootings every year. This was the worst, he said.
He said the placement of the bullet -- through the chest and into the spine -- leads him to believe the dog was killed deliberately and not as the object of whimsical hunting-related target practice.
"This guy knew what he was doing," Manzoni said. "He wasn't take just taking pot shots."
Manzoni couldn't say what weapon was used, but said it was a rifle rather than shotgun. He believes the shooter hit the animal twice.
Saginaw County sheriff's deputies responded to the incident, but were unable to locate the shooter.
Wietfeldt's family buried the dog in the back yard near a sandbox where Maddy would lie during hot summer days. A pile of beach stones, collected from Au Gres for a rock garden, stands as a monument.
Collin placed the wing of his first duck, shot last fall, in the grave. He had trained Maddy to begin duck hunting this year.
But that hasn't erased the hurt. Nor has it eased Wietfeldt's mind.
"It's scary to think that somebody could be sitting out there with a rifle shooting at innocent animals," she said.